Chaos and Deceit
by Alxe.1
Summary: He didn't do it, But that doesn't mean he wouldn't have. When Jace Herondale becomes the main suspect to murder it's up to ICPD's Clary Morgenstern to find the truth. In a world of mobsters, prostitues, and crooked lawmen, that's no easy job however; Clary finds herself playing a dangerous game, not only with the bad guys, but with her growing feelings for Jace too...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hello, this story is based around the song El tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rouge. I'm taking a short break from my other story to tidy it up a bit as I'm not very happy with it at the mo but I will be returning to it. I have a couple of other ideas swimming around in my head so they might peak out sometime soon as well. Enjoy and please review as I always love to hear what you guys think.**

 **Disclaimer: I wish I did but I DON'T OWN TMI**

 **Excuse me while I go write a last minute English interim asssessment (groans).**

 _~ El Tango De Roxanne ~_

The handcuffs dig painfully into Jace Herondale's wrists as he looked around the bland grey room. Everything was bland here in the Constance State Police department holding cells. Everything was bland since her. Her and her life of glamorous deceit. The life she would not give up even for him.

And now there is no life left in her. Dead.

She's better off that way. Now she cant hurt anyone else.

He didn't do it. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't have. She lied after all. He loved her and she lied. Jace supposed she lied to her killer as well, that she stringed him along too. But now she's dead so it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters now.

Bland.

What Jace did not understand is why the police cared so much. Why was he here? All she ever was was a lying prostitute who pretended to love all her victims.

Victims. The unsuspecting men that crossed her path and fell head over heels. The irony of that; Jace was once her victim but now he is the suspect to her murder. Oh, how the tables have turned.

She had it coming. But then again so did he. He knew better than to fall in love with a girl like her. What with her job. With her lifestyle. He knew better and now he is paying for his foolishness.

The web of lies she danced in must have finally caught up with her and Jace wasn't very surprised. She danced a wicked tango of deceits and betrayal. Until her song came to an end it seems.

And now he sits here in this bland interrogation room. Awaiting the time that dull door will open, exposing him to the harsh questions of whatever portly police officer they decided to send in.

Jace will tell them what he first told them when they arrested him. That he did not do it. He was not guilty. And they should know it was not a lie because Jace Herondale hates liars. He hated them strongly, even before her.

But she was the worst.

And the best. After all, he did love her. Oh, how he loved her with so much passion. But she could not deal with love. She did not know what it was, what it felt like.

And so she carried on dancing in her web of lies, the tango of betrayal and deceit.

And now she's dead.

And now the world is bland.

And now he is here.

The questioning room door creaked open but Jace did not look over to see his interrogator. Instead he stared straight ahead at the smooth cold wall, emotionless.

"Jonathan Herondale"

"I did not do it" Jace's voice is quite to his own ears.

"I have enough evidence to lock you up regardless of weather you did it or not" Jace did not look at the man as he sat down, metal chair scraping against the floor piercingly.

"look at me when I'm talking to you, boy" The older officer growled as Jace lifted his head slowly. Golden hair fell into his eyes as he starred hard on at his interrogator. The man was in his late 40's at most, with white blond and black obsidian eyes that glared at Jace coldly. His Jaw was strong and set as something ticked in it.

It appeared Jace was wrong in his assumptions of his interrogators identity.

"Right now, I don't care whether you did it or not. All I care about is the mangled corpse of a prostitute that's moulding in my city morgue." Jace flinched inside as the man carried on "I got to lock someone up for that, now don't I boy? So unless you start talking more, your luck might just run out" The man leaned forward sinisterly, placing his large folded hand on the metal desk separating the suspect and interrogator.

"I did not do it" Jace shook his head to emphasise his point, lifting his shackled hand up onto the metal table. "I was at the Hunter's Moon bar playing like I do every Friday night. I'm the fiddler, ask the bar keeper Lucian" Jace's voice was short and that seemed to annoy the older man.

"listen here boy, don't you talk to me like that" he growled, raising a finger menacingly. "My word is the difference between your freedom and a nice dirty prison cell boy so you-"

The man was cut off by the opening of the door.

"father?"

The voice was timid, careful as the officer turned towards its source sharply. A young girl with wide green eyes and burnt copper hair stood there, dressed in the compulsory police officer uniform.

"Clarissa" The man's voice was harsh and annoyed at being interrupted as Jace continued to stare. "It's Chief to you as well" he corrected her sharply.

"Sorry chief but Commissioner Carstairs called. He said its urgent. I'll take this over for now" the girl, Clarissa, motioned to Jace.

"Thank you officer" The older man spoke coldly to even his own daughter, swiftly moving past her to reach the urgent call.

Once the door is shut again, the new officer took a seat. "So Mr Herondale" her voice was sweat with a rustic edge to it like burnt sugar. Nothing like her voice. Her voice was sultry and inviting. But it could be cold, Jace reminded himself. Oh, how her voice was so harsh and cold when she told him there was another man. That she no longer loved him. Jace's heart hurt at that thought.

"It says here you alibi was that you where performing at a bar at the time of death, yes?"

Jace nodded affirmative at the young officer's questions, studying the splattering of freckles along the bridge of her small nose.

The officer read from the brown folder her 'father' had left. "what act do you do?"

"pardon?" Jace's eyebrows creased in confusion.

"what were you performing at the bar that night Mr Herondale?" The girl repeated, lips tilting up slightly as she read the folder.

"The fiddle. I am a violinist" Jace held his shackled hands up as proof, turning them until the girls could see his callused finger tips. She nodded.

"My fa- chief seems to think you are Miss Aline Penhallow's murder. You want to tell me why he thinks that?"

This girl had a very different approach to interrogation than her father, Jace reflected.

"I did not do it, even though I had all the reason to" His voice was solemn, the only sound asides from their breathing and the slight hum of the air vents.

"Why would you say that? You and Miss Penhallow where in a relationship but a friend of her's said she broke it off?" she questions, clicking her pen and looking up at his in interest. Her eyes widened slightly, a fraction, as Jace realised it was the first time she had looked directly at him. A blush settled on the girls cheeks before she shook her head, resuming her questioning.

"Did you seek revenge on her for breaking of your relationship?" Jace's heart hurt again, thinking of the woman who he had dearly loved. If only she had given up her lifestyle of sex and lies like he had begged when things got bad, maybe she would still be with him now…

"No. I loved Aline even though I shouldn't have with her background. I knew what kind of woman she was but I hoped she would change for us. I like to think that at one point she loved me or maybe I'm just being foolish. I asked her to give up that life so we could be together, just us two, but she said no, that she was seeing someone else. She was a prostitute after all so I should have know it would never have lasted, but I loved my Aline so very much I was prepared to look past that."

" But then she shattered my heart, said she did not love me. I could not look at her any longer, speak of her. Aline had lied to me all along when I had loved her like I had never loved anyone else. She weaved a web of lies, her victims- men- trapped in the middle. She danced the tango of deceit with all of her victims. I was one. She was good at it , lying. It was part of her job, I suppose. But she must have tripped up somewhere along the line."

"what do you mean?" Clarissa looked at the broken voiced man curiously, noting how he spoke of his love with so much passion. She expected he was a very good violinist. An even better lover, she cursed herself for thinking. This man was a suspect in a murder and she was thinking of him in bed?!

It was clear Clarissa needed to see the precinct's shrink again.

"Another one of her lovers is the man who killed her I suppose. Jealousy will drive you mad." His solemn words hung in the air as Clarissa studied him. Something within told her this man was innocent. Maybe it was how his passionate words stirred her emotions or how his handsome beauty made her mind wander deviously.

"Did you know any of her lovers?" She probed softly, not wanting to upset the golden man.

"Sebastian Verlac, Raphael Santiago, Dimitri Solovak… Aline had us all stringed along." Jace rested his forehead against his shackled hands.

"Did you know of anyone else who had a personal grudge against her?" The room was suspended in silence.

Jace shook his head, golden curls tousling.

"I did not do it".

"I don't really think you did, Mr Herondale" Clarissa admitted, looking down again.

"Jace" he said softly, wishing she would look up again so he could see those green eyes. They were most captivating.

"Clary" she said back, smiling slightly. "I'll look into you alibi and those men you mentioned. Hopefully we can close this case quickly" Jace was disappointed to notice her voice swiftly turn back to business-like.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me, Jace" she used his name hesitantly, as if unsure about saying it out loud. Jace thought carefully…

"Thank you Clary. Your father wants someone held accountable for Aline's murder. That's why he suspected me as her killer. But I did not do this" Jace hoped his eyes conveyed his pleading to the girl across from him.

'Goodbye Jace" her burnt-sugar voice was a whisper of air as she left him alone again, silently shutting the door behind her.

"Goodbye Clary" Jace breathed to the still air.

Maybe life wasn't so bland anymore.

Jace had a lot to do.


	2. Chapter 2 - Dead man

**A/N - Thanks to AhliaNicole and Lovemyblackcat for their reviews and please stick with me! I know this chapter is short but I'm finally getting my mojo back as all my plans are written for this story so more chapters will be on the way. Regarding my other story, I have no future plans for that one but if anyone wants to see it continued, let me know what they want to happen next... Please leave a review if you like this xxx**

Simon Lewis watched from his desk as the golden head of Jace herondale was escorted to the front of the precinct to sign his release papers; it seemed that despite what the threatening police chief Morgenstern had said, legally there was no evidence substantial enough yet to keep Jace in custody any longer. The blond kept his head down as he left, back ramrod straight though the station doors and Simon took this as his cue to bury his own head in the stack of papers littering his desk.

The early morning sun glared into jace's eyes as he made his way downtown, heading for his small apartment above madam Dorothea's tea parlour. The batty witch lived behind the store and was constantly billowing strange coloured smoke from her chimney. Nearing the row house, Jace clambered the back steps and unlocked the door with the help of a good few shoves of his shoulder. Torn newspaper littered the floor and a few books had been knocked from their shelf; it seemed Church, his fat blue Persian cat had gone on a mini rampage after being left with no fresh food or tummy rubs for two days! A shower was the blond's main priority however after spending 24 hours in a filth covered holding cell. Jace heeled of his shoes before proceeding to do just that.

Under the scalding water he was able to finally sort his mind out. Jace needed to suss out Who killed Aline, and with the young police officer Clary already searching for dirt on Verlac, Solovak, and Santiago, Jace just had to look underground for any leads. And that meant a visit to Emil Pangborn was in order.

-c-c-c-c-

Tapping his hand nervously, Jace looked around at the guards standing at every entrance of the visiting room of Idris states maximum security prison. The drive out had been long and caffeinated coffee fuelled so Jace really wanted to leave as soon as possible. It also frightened the young man that he could end up In here as well and from the looks of Emil who had aged around 20 years since his incarceration, this prison was no picnic.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, it seems as the burly dark haired man strolled through the secure metal door, a prison guard on either side oh his broad frame.

"Jace, ma boy!" He grabbed him by the shoulders with tattooed muscular arms, a feat in itself considering the handcuffs locking his wrists together. "How have you been?" Plonking down heavily on the chair opposite him, Emil squared his shoulder and coughed gruffly.

"I've been alright, still playing at the 'Hunter's moon' and living with Dorothea" Emil grunted something along the lines of "the batty witch still breathing eh?" Although Jace chose to ignore this.

"something has come up though… Something bad and I need you to get me some information from inside, see who's willing to speak" the older man let out a deep bitter chuckle at this.

"Dead men don't speak Jace, and let me tell you, every man who walks through that door is a dead man" he pointed to the metal door separating the visiting room from the inmates quarters.

"Emil I am going to be a dead man unless one of your rats gets me some information on the death of Aline Penhallow!" Jace slammed a hand on the table, drawing the attention of the shifty crack addicts whispering at the next table. Everything seemed jumbled in his mind and Jace just wanted to go back and pretend he never fell in love to begin with.

"Jace, calm down son and tell me what's going on" Emil spoke softly as a father would. That's what he was to the boy really, having been left as his carer after his father had left the city. 'Good use I am to him locked up in here' he thought sourly.

Jace took a deep breath before diving not the story of how his prostitute girlfriend had stringed him along, cheated on him, broken up with him, then gotten herself murdered and left him as the prime suspect, his heart breaking a little more with every word.

"I need you to find out any information you can about the murder from the underground gangs. Even if this is the work of a single serial killer, one of the rats would have seen something" Jace finished, referring to the shadowy homeless network as rats, the eyes and ears of underground Idris.

"And what of the police? They would have filled in the connection between you and your father though the names and the fact you have the same bloody face. Why wouldn't they think to kill two birds with one stone; put to case to rest and have you locked up like he should have been?" The dark haired man flexed his arms again, folding them across his broad chest."God knows they did the same thing to me; ain't no justice in this city" he muttered grimly. The two where careful to keep there voices low with guards loitering round the room.

"trust me, that idea is not too far off what chief Morgenstern told me during the interrogation" Jace's voice mirrored that of the handcuffed man before him.

"Well I'll be damned if I let that bastard send my boy down for the sins of his farther" he sighed tiredly. They both knew he wasn't talking about himself. "I'll do some digging and find out what I can, you keep your nose clean and look for any diaries or notebooks the girl kept that could lead us to any more of her lovers. You never know; she might have been banging a bigger fish than the likes of you and if the police find that out, they might send that poor sod down instead" Jace flinched a little at his harsh language before realising that is exactly how chief Morgenstern would think. A man like Emil would know after all.

Jace walked out of the prison that day wishing he would never be one of the dead men Emil Pangborn spoke of. 'And now to deal with that bloody cat' he thought.


	3. Chapter 3 - Sweet dreams

**A/N - I told you more chapters where on the way! Thanks to Ali3natics and falmariel for their reviews and once again if you would like to see queen of hearts updated, give me some ideas of what you want to happen! This chapter has a little bit of language in it (blame Jace not me) and a little bit of grim imagery (okay** ** _that_** **was me), just a warning although it's nothing too bad. Please drop a review if you like this because I do love those... Xxx**

The rain pelted heavily against Clary Morgenstern's umbrella, soothing her overworked mind with it's calming repetitiveness. Today was a rainy Tuesday, the present bane of Clary's existence... Tuesdays alone where bad enough, but rainy Tuesdays? Clary would much rather be anywhere else than at work, checking the criminal records of Aline Penhallow's know past lovers.

Whats more, as if her bright red hair wasn't eye catching enough, it was now puffy and knotty from the blowing rain and she was cold… very cold…

'Of course the heaters would choose a Tuesday to break' Clary let out an exasperated sigh as she entered the precinct, ignoring her father's narrowed eyes at her disarrayed appearance. At least she turned up to work. Instead she sat down heavily, shuffling some papers littering her desk and reflecting on how the present day where Hell's own gift to earth.

"Hey Morgenstern" Simon, her partner (strictly work only!), chirped up from his desk opposite her's. "Tough morning?" he feigned sympathy jokingly.

"Try tough week… Or month for that matter" she sighed again, pinching the bridge of her freckle-scattered nose. "I've got three murder suspect to research up on, a load of paperwork from the cooper case, and I have an appointment with Dr Andrews at 1:00" this time Simon's sympathy was real.

"Plus the chief will want a written report on the interrogation of Jonathan Herondale because I had to take it over when the commissioner rang up yesterday" it seemed the girl had a mountain of work that was higher than her to complete.

"Well seeing as your slowly falling into depression" Clary cut his a look at his not-so-funny joke "how about I take you for dinner at Taki's tonight?" Simon coughed after he lowered his gaze so is partner wouldn't see his flaming cheeks.

"Si, you know what my father's like. He'll complain if I'm out too late" He'd call her ungrateful for the job he had given her and say she wasn't taking it serious enough regardless of how hard she worked her butt off. Valentine Morgenstern was a hard man to please.

"How about a drink then? Just one?" He offered again, head still dropped as he pretended to be interested in the case he was reading; an old woman complaining about being banned from the grocery store for repeatedly stealing their trollies.

"just one" Clary warned him before returning to the pile of sheets on her desk. At twenty-two, you would think she would be able to control her own life but when living under her father's roof she had to follow her father's rules and with the low pay she was getting from the job she was forced into ("an Artist is a lowlife occupation that will do nothing for you. I don't want to hear anymore of it!") moving out wasn't an option.

By the time 1:00 had rolled by, Clary had finished all her paperwork, written the report, handed it into her father who had not even spared a glance at it, and had researched into Sebastian Verlac, the first of Aline Penhallow's lovers and also her cousin. Clary had cringed at this information. It appeared that asides from a few speeding tickets, Sebastian was clean as far as murder or suspicious activity went. She would still have one of the rookies trail him, perhaps bring him in for an interrogation. Maybe, after finding out they where cousins, he killed her in a fit of rage… It was worth looking into him just in case. Clary wasn't about to send an innocent man to jail.

Now the only thing the young red head had to do was see the precinct's shrink, Dr Andrews for her monthly mental check up. After knocking cautiously on the wooden door labelled with the doctors name, it was swung open by a beetle-like man with round magnifying glasses perched on his slim nose and a portly belly that strained against his pinstripe blue and white shirt. He was short, around the same size as Clary, and was balding at the very top of his head, leaving a shiny little patch Clary could see her reflection in if she stood on tip toes.

"Clarissa" he beamed as a welcome, ushering her into his office and onto the customary chair/bed thing every shrink had. Laying her head back, Clary let out a long breath, allowing the incense suffocating the room to billow into her lungs, soothing her. "How have we been this month?" Dr Andrews got straight to work. "Has it been the same dream still?"

"It's always the same dream, doctor. I see- I see him in the car, he's not speeding at all, he's just not looking properly, he's looking at me instead. And then it happens, the silver car comes out of no where and ploughs right into him. The car begins to roll and I can see the whole thing. I can see his face as he cries for help but I can never help him because I was never really there… It's all a figment of my imagination. Clary took a long breath to calm her shaking voice before continuing. "Then the tank sets alight and I watch my brother burn to death". The girl finished bluntly, her voice void of emotion and her mind in utter turmoil.

"I see" Andrews nodded dolefully "and have you been taking the medicine I prescribed you?" He watched the girl before him and she stared up at the ceiling. Her Brother had been an officer too until he had died tragically in a terrible car crash two years previously. Jonathan Morgenstern had also been visiting Andrews weekly, complaining about recurring dreams and a sense of foreboding that would follow him everywhere. The doctor hoped he wouldn't see the past repeat itself.

"When I take the medicine I can't wake up in the morning" Clary explained, failing to mention how her father had flushed the pills down the toilet, claiming there was nothing wrong with her, she was just being weak, pathetic, and attention seeking. Letting out another sigh, the red head studied the light grey walls and sculptures of various obscene sexual positions dotted around the room with interest.

He once again nodded, accepting her explanation and with a few more meaningless questions about her health and mind state, Dr Andrews in his bug like manner whisked the girl from his office and bid her farewell. Passing through the busy precinct, Clary went undisturbed until she reached her desk opposite Simon's.

"You ready, Morgenstern?" He stood to put on his jacket. Simon, who was a little bit on the gangly side admittedly, had mousy brown hair and dark coffee coloured eyes hidden behind fairly thick glasses. To some girls he would be considered cute or even handsome in a nerdy way, but to Clary he was simply her friend and her only one at that.

Shrugging on her own jacket Clary replied "Yep, let's go" and the two left the precinct together, heading for the low profile slightly tacky diner 'Taki's'.

-c-c-c-c-

" _You don't understand Jonathan! I don't love you anymore! I don't want you and I don't need you!" Her screams reverberated of the walls and echoed through her apartment as she stood in little more than a silk kimono, crying to the golden man in front of her, begging him to leave. "But I love you" he countered back, laying his heart at her feet. She knew she had to break it… And every other promise she had made to this man._

 _"You shouldn't" she sucked a harsh breath in to prepare herself for the next words -The next lie- she was about to tell. "Because I don't love you. I never did and you should have known that" she sneered bitterly at him, tears dripping from her chin._

 _"You should have know and now I'm dead because of you Jace!" He stood and watched horrified as her face began early to blister and peel. She continued to scream as the walls quaked "I'm rotting in some morgue now and it's all your fault! You drove me too this!"._

 _His ears began to bleed. He could feel the stickiness coating his curls and she lurched forward, bugs, beetles, and maggots spluttering from her lips as black blood replaced the tear tracks etched into her falling face. He couldn't move to stop his love disintegrating before his eyes, as she clawed at her own face, ripping and tugging until-_

"Huuuuuuugh!" Jace awoke violently with a gasp, immediately bending over the side of his bed and throwing up incessantly. Gasping for air, he breathed deeply in and out to calm his speeding heart rate. He swore, shoving a clammy hand though his matted curls before rising and cleaning up his mess before the cat found it.

A shadow shrouded figure watched the silhouette of a tall lean man with interest, waiting for him to leave the safety of the apartment. And so the man did… When he saw the all familiar lithe figure crouched behind Madam Dorothea's cauldron type flower pots.

Stepping out into the frigid nights air Jace watched the figure grow closer until his face became clear under the back door porch light. "Malachi" Jace greeted the lithe Arabian man stonily.

"Herondale Jr." He replied back "I have a job for you". The night was silent, dangerously so, at these words.

"You know I'm past that life" Jace raised one golden eyebrow, watching the man's eyes tighten at his words.

"You never leave the life" his grin was like a cold glinting knife in the dark night.

"You can try" Jace replied easily, unfazed by the Malachi's sinister tone. Malachi let out a barking laugh "And how is that working out for you? A dead girlfriend and her murder charge on your hands" he mocked.

Suddenly, he was against the cold brick wall with the younger boys elbow in his trachea. "What do you know about Aline?" Jace growled darkly in his ear.

'I know that she had a string of lovers in our lifestyle too as well as her regular customers, the whore" he gasped as Jace dug his arm in harsher, eyes glinting dangerously like hard topaz stone. "Her murderer could be anyone of them" he wheezed finally, still smirking for the rise he had evoked from the young blond. Spinning around violently, Jace shoved the other man off him and back into the shadows. "Get the fuck out of here" he sneered maliciously "and don't fucking come back". With another sharp grin, Malachi turned and slunk away into the darkness surreptitiously.

Jace sat on the back step of the house, lost in his jumbled thoughts, waiting for Church to return from his night errands before finally returning to bed, but no sleep would reach him tonight.


	4. Chapter 4 - Black heart witness

**A/N- And so the story unravels... Let me know what you think by reviewing and if you liked this remember to follow xx**

 **Disclaimer; I own nothing unfortunatly for me or I'd be rolling in millions.**

The black heart dance bar looked a strange mix between grim and glamour, with dirty walls and strip cages twinkling in the grande glow of glistening chandeliers like Vegas. The copper bar top and lusty red ceiling almost gave the bar a classic look of mystery and money had it not been for the scantily dresses dancers, men and woman, lounging around the room carelessly. After all it was after hours at 9 o'clock in the morning. Nightfall was when this bar really came alive.

Clary and Simon stood in the velvet curtained doorway awkwardly until one of the dancers noticed them. Dressed in the compulsory police uniform, the two stood out sorely against their dark red surroundings that seemed to positively screamed sexual allure and primitively want.

A girl dressed in a short glittering gold flapper dress approached the two, sauntering over slowly and winking at Simon who blushed looking down. Her dark hair whipped behind her as she stopped in front of them, tall as an Amazonian.

"welcome…" She raised a dark eyebrow teasingly. "My name is Isabelle. How can I help you?" She introduced herself with a blood red smile that glowed against her pale skin seductively. She licked her lips hungrily.

Fumbling for his badge clumsily, Simon coughed before announcing "we're with the ICPD. I'm officer Lewis and this is my partner officer Morgenstern. We've come to ask some questions about a girl that used to work as a dance-"

"Aline Penhallow, right?" Isabelle finished for him in her sultry stage voice. "She was a dancer like the rest of us" she said with the deceiving smirk of an angel.

"Miss, we are well aware of what type of ' _dance_ ' bar the black heart is so I ask you to not lie to us again" Clary's voice was cold and biting. The black heart was know for being a glorified whore house that could lure even the most God-fearing of men in. It appeared Jonathan Herondale had gotten himself mixed up in the midst of this all. Clary and Simon both knew Aline Penhallow, the victim, was a prostitute. Isabelle's giggle was as dark as her eyes when she looked up at Simon through smoky lashes. "What do you want to know then?" She lead the two officers over to the copper bar, swishing her hips the whole way so the glimmering material of her dress caught the golden light.

"Did Miss Penhallow have any enemies, and unpaid debts, any envious lovers?" Simon asked ready to write Isabelle's answer down with the notepad and pen he had produced from the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Aline had a couple of customers in the Belcourt gang that hang around the 'Durmort' a bar downtown. Her and the leader, camille where once in a serious relationship until Aline broke it off because she had fallen in love with some golden haired violinist from the rival gang's hangout 'The Hunters moon'" Isabelle scoffed as she said the word love. "That's the only explanation I can think of for such a violent murder; the mobs." She shrugged half heartedly. Clary's ears perked up at the mention of Jace the golden haired violinist as Isabelle had put it.

Simon stopped and looked up from his notepad at this. "You don't think the murder was simply just the work of a psychopathic killer?". Isabelle laughed grimly before almost sneering "in a city like Idris where there's no justice why kill for nothing when you can kill for profit? If a psychopathic killer as you put it is behind Aline's death… They would have been hired by one of the gangs anyway. I've seen deaths like her's before, and they're not just the work of a mindless murderer. It was far to calculated and fluid to not be a professional" she finished appearing to be disinterested by picking at her nails.

Clary and Simon exchanged a look over this. They thanked Isabelle for her cooperation to which she replied with a sultry "anytime" winking saucily at Simon, before the two left the sleazy bar. Once they where back the police cruiser Simon re-read his notes then looked at Clary. "So we have a new suspect; Camille Belcourt, leader of the gang that hangs around the hotel Durmort. I'd say Aline ran of with Jace, Camille became the crazy ex and killed Aline off, hoping to frame Jace for it" he shrugged at clary as she mulled it all over.

"Why kill her though if Camille loved her? Maybe Aline new information about the gang that could be dangerous in the wrong hands?" She raised an eyebrow at Simon who nodded in agreement, brow furrowed. "This runs further than a lovers spat, I know it" clary looked out of the window at the Black heart bar's even sleazier exterior.

"We'll just have to do some digging" replied Simon , folding his notes away and with that the two drove uptown back to the precinct. Later that day however, it seemed that there was no such person named Camille Belcourt in the whole of Idris. Even though clary and Simon searched for hours (much to the chiefs displeasure; he wanted a guilty suspect now) not one file containing that name could be located.

This all seemed very odd to the two. It's as if Belcourt simply didn't exist, like a ghost. As if somebody from the inside was deliberately withholding these files in an effort to sway clary and Simon of Camille's track. But who in the ICPD would do that? It was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

-c-c-c-c-

The shrill ringing of a cell phone jolted the man sitting in the oak office Causing ink to splatter across the page on which he ad been writing. After locating the shrieking mobile, he looked up to check the frosted window door of his office was shut properly before jamming a finger down on the answer button.

No greetings where exchanged between the man and his ominous caller. The phone line only buzzed like a horde of horse flys with the sound turned down until- _"why isn't the boy incarcerated yet?_ " The man sighed in resignation. He had been expecting this call.

"I can't compromise my position and arresting that boy with no substantial evidence will defiantly draw the attention of commissioner Carstairs. He's already put the PD under surveillance for how easy it appeared for that military weapons cargo to be intercepted under our watch" the man spoke grimly, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

" _The cargo was last week and next week I'm going to have an even stickier job for you unless Jonathan herondale is behind bars, where all scum like his and his family belong"_ the voice spat threateningly as the man felt his shoulders sag under another load of weight being dumped metaphorically on them. 'Good thing the money is worth it' he thought grimly, running a hand through his white hair.

" _and what of witnesses?_ Has my name come up at all?" Paranoia was clear in the demanding voice.

"A girl at the dance bar, Isabelle, told two of my officers of you and aline's past relationship but I have made sure they won't be able to trace any leads on you" the man reassured his surreptitious caller.

" _well done"_ the voice praised him and the man let out a sigh of relief " _I'll send someone to deal with the girl"_

"I don't need another whore's body in my morgue Camille" the man warned wearily.

" _Fine_!' The voice's laugh was maddening _"I won't kill her, just scare her a little_ " and with that the line cut off eerily and the call ended just as abruptly as it had started.


	5. Chapter 5 - Starless Sky

**A/N- And so the plot begins to unravel some more... The Clace is coming soon so bear with me! Thanks to those of you who followed or favourited this story and please drop me a review if you like this chapter. Goodnight before I drop dead now! xxx**

Chapter 5

Rain pattered vehemently against the metallic roof of the black flash car. The night was dark and stormy as the rain pelting down unforgivingly. The dimly flashing lights of Taki's diner glowed though the darkened windows onto the black leather interiors of the car as a girl's sultry giggle was drowned out by the noise outside.

"Raphael!". The voice belonged to Isabelle Lightwood as she laughed lightly, batting off her touchy lovers hands.

"C'mon babe- don't be like that" Raphael, her companion in the locked car clearly wasn't getting the hint as he steered her hands to the front of his black jeans.

"No!" Jerking her hands away she hit her back hard on the door of the car in attempt to get away from him "I don't want to".

"What do you mean you don't want to?" Raphael grabbed the tops of her arms and yanked to pull her across the gearbox and onto his lap. Kicking her legs in a struggling fit, Isabelle landed a heeled boot in her thigh before he released her.

"It means I don't want to!" She seethed before snatching up her coat and storming out of the car.

"Hey get back in this car!" Raphael shouted after her, unlocking his door, as she looked over her shoulder to see him following her infuriated stomp. Isabelle began to run. Her heeled boots echoed against the asphalt almost as much as his demanding shouts did in the alley he chased her through. "Isabelle!" His voice held anger and threat that promised violence.

Lurching forward with new found speed fuelled by fear or maybe by the blood pulsing through her head- Isabelle burst into the brightly lit diner up ahead. The door to the greasy all-nighter joint slammed against the wall ferociously as the young girl desperately pelted behind the closest red and white chequered booth.

"Isabelle?" Jerking her head up, her wide dark eyes took in the sight of a gangly looking figure with mousy hair and wide spectacles, with a smaller figure whose fiery curls seemed to form a glorious halo around her head, both peering down at her with befuddled curiosity.

Suddenly the clogs began to turn once more and the two faces before her, Isabelle recognised, belonged to the officers who had visited her workplace a few hours earlier. "Are you alright, miss?" Asked the lady officer, moving a hand underneath the table to help Isabelle up, though she shook her head adamantly, fear still gripping her insides as she waited for Raphael to advance on her hiding spot. He would not be pleased with her.

"What's wrong? How can we help?" Isabelle ignored the two as she glanced around the diner from underneath the table, counting the exits, and planing her escape should Raphael enter though the main door looking for her. To finish what he had started. The thought caused an unwelcome shiver to run down her spine as she crouched low. Once she was certain nobody was coming for her, Isabelle, rather sheepishly, crawled out form underneath the table, expecting all eyes to be on her after the strange disruption her entrance had caused. She was pleasantly surprised that didn't seem to be the case as she reappeared but soon shook that thought off as she realised, that probably meant many distressed scantily clad girls ran into the diner at the end of the alley to escape persistent men often enough for the workers the think nothing of it when that said girl was her.

Whipping her eyes for tears she hadn't realised had dropped, the young girls hands shook violently. "I'm sorry officers, I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"Nonsense" the male officer face was concerned though she could not recall his name at all in her jumbled and adrenaline fuelled mind. Their faces alone swam in her teary vision.

"I just- I just had to get away-" the female officer held up a hand in an expression of 'you don't have to explain yourself', her face saddened. Isabelle felt sick at the looks of sympathy across both their faces. "Have a seat" she said.

After ordering a glass of water for Isabelle, Simon and Clary reintroduced themselves to the still shaking girl opposite them as she began to calm down. Working as police officers, especially in Idris, the pair had seen many cases of distressed and also hysterical girls well enough to sooth her trembling. This town was definitely no picnic.

"Thank you" Isabelle murmured, placing the empty glass down on the diner table. Simon smiled at her. "Do you live close?" He asked.

"A couple of blocks away" as the two spoke, Clary seemed to drift off, a habit she had picked up after Jonathan's death when she had had no one to talk to.

"Well it's getting pretty dark, I can drive you if you want? He offered, blushing a little "just to make sure you get home okay". Isabelle unintentionally thought of Raphael, causing a cold shiver to run down her spine, before she nodded hastily. "If it's not too much trouble for you, I would appreciate that a lot actually" she smiled at the mousy haired geeky looking boy.

"Clary" Simon said "I'm going to take Isabelle home just to make sure she gets back to her place safely, do you need a lift?" Clary looked between the two before deciding maybe leaving them alone was a good idea. Simon needed to start dating really or at least to gain a little more confidence and Isabelle seemed nice enough. It was probably best for Simon to ensure Isabelle got home safely rather than her.

"it's alright Si, I'm not that far away from my house. You to go on and I'll text you when I get back in" Simon made an 'are you sure?' Face before Clary nodded, smiling lightly, and offered her goodbyes to Isabelle too.

The pair left taki's and after knocking back her coffee, Clary followed, preparing to set off on the short-ish walk home. The rain had stopped but large puddles of dark water stood in her way as she walked. Moving past an abandoned church and a rowdy looking tavern, Claryscreamed as a hand shot out of the darkness with the speed of a sticking snake, but her call was cut short as a hand was clamped against her mouth. What was going on? Kicking and attempting to wriggle her way free, Clary was dragged by her attackers into the darkness of an alley running down the back of the tavern where the bins were kept.

"Clarissa Morgenstern" a bitter roughy voice growled in her ear as she whimpered, holding back her tears and cursing herself for not being more prepared or aware. He had her pinned with no possible way of escape. Struggling uselessly, the man, who's figure was as large and hulking as a ship in the darkness, held her down tighter. "I hear you've been digging around for some information, asking questions you shouldn't be asking. Isn't that right?" His sinister tone conveyed his joy at intimidating her like this, making her feel utterly defenceless.

Clary shook her head desperately as her heart pounded a mile a minute in her chest. The huge man chucked darkly at her, pressing her further into the wall just to earn another whimper of fear. "It's alright my pretty, don't cry" he stoked her tear stained face as she shied away, one hand still clamped over her mouth oppressively. "Let me help you out; stop your investigation into the death of Aline Penhallow or my boss will be very unhappy, and that will mean you'll be getting another visit from me" the strangers smile flashed bright in the dim light barely coming from the tavern's grime covered Windows. He took joy in the look of pure fear on the young girls face, stroking her red locks as she shuddered in disgust before he drew a patch of cloth out of his back pocket and smothered her delicate face with it.

As consciousness left her and her green eyes drooped heavily, the large attacker laid her on the ground unceremoniously in the alley before looking around surreptitiously and furtively sneaking back into the night, his work for the evening complete.

-c-c-c-c-

Returning to work after Aline felt good but once knocking back a few pints after being sober for 3 months, Jace had started to feel the effects of the alcohol quickly and so after finishing up his last song to the rowdy cheering bunch at The Hunters moon, he snuck to the back of the crowded pub to take a breather.

Swinging open the disused back door, Jace stopped to observe the obscene drawings on the fire escape sign before taking a seat on the cold concrete steps. His alcohol clouded mind revelled in the feel of the brisk air hitting his face into alertness and tipping his head back, Jace sat there for a number of minuets before his feet went numb from the cold. Sighing, he stood to shake the blood back into his feet and the drink out of his mind before something pale caught his eye in the darkness.

Jace narrowed his topaz eyes as he crept forward to what looked like a- a hand? No, not just a hand, but a wrist, and an arm, and a torso, with legs, and a pale face with dark red curls half obscuring it. It was a girl. And she looked increasingly familiar as Jace swept her hair to the side.

It was the female police officer, Clary, with the burnt sugar voice and the dainty smattering of freckles dotted across her nose. "What on earth?" Jace whisperer in a befuddled voice, attempting to shake the girl awake gently, before checking her pulse.

She was alive, but unconscious. Hardly one to leave a sleeping girl in an alley at the back end of a bar, Jace picked her up and cradled her too him, thankful that at least he had come across her first as opposed to some other that frequented the bar. Clary was incredibly light in his arms, as he checked the alley once more before making to carrying her to his home. "What, in the name of the angel, have you got yourself into?" He whispered, looking up at the starless sky as if the heavens above held the answer to his question. In a way, Jace was asking both himself and the unconscious girl he held that.


	6. Chapter 6 - Celine

**A/N- it's 1:24 am right now and I was asleep until I got the intense urge to post this chapter... I'm starting to gradually build up the clace here so I'm slightly nervouse to see what you guys think, please review if you enjoy this and I'll try and get more chapters out since I've got a bit more spare time on my hands now :) I do know this is not a very long chapter but it's a start, right? Also I would like to thank everyone for they're supportive comments on my other story, please show some love to this one!**

 _Chapter 6_

Searing pain was the first thing Clary felt as she drifted back into consciousness. Pinpricks of bright light burst behind her eyes, before violent purple spots flooded her vision. Where was she? Clary had no recollection of falling asleep… Or of last night at all… What had happened to her? She vaguely remembered Simon asking her out for drinks the day before, maybe things had gotten out of control and now she was merely on his couch suffering from a major hangover? … But- no, Clary remembered herself specifically refusing Simon's offer on account of what her farther would say, limiting herself to one drink only.

Suddenly, like water swarming into the broken window of a submerged car, Clary's memory came flooding painfully back… The man attacking her on her way home, his threats, the chloroform he had used to knock her out… "I hear you've been digging for some information-… Stop you're investigation into the deaths of Aline Penhallow or my boss will be very unhappy" his deep scratchy voice rasped through her blurry memory as she struggled for full consciousness, panic rising inside her chest. Where was she?, did the man from her memory kidnap her? Frantic, Clary's eyes flew open and she wrenched her aching body up from where she had lain. Her police training kicked in as she scanned her surrounding, looking for a weapon, her phone, anything that could identify her kidnapper. She stood in a small ratty looking apartment, with shoddy looking furniture scattered with keys, socks, loose change,… Cat fur?

"Good, you're awake". Grabbing a butter knife of the closest corner table, Clary swung around to meet the voice which had startled her, pulling her arm back and preparing to fling her weapon- "What the-? " there in front of her stood Jace Herondale, his golden hair shinning angelically in the early morning sun. Clary, having been expecting her kidnapper to have been the horrible man from last night, let out a sigh of relief and slumped back down onto a pile of dirty socks littering the sofa. "Thank god it's just you" she drew a hand through her wild curls before promptly regaining her composure. "where am I?!".

"Well" Jace began, pushing aside a stack of books balanced on the armchair opposite Clary and sitting with a breakfast tray Clary hadn't realised he was carrying across his lap. "You're in my apartment downtown, I had to take you somewhere I knew you would be safe. I couldn't exactly leave you in an alleyway, you're lucky it was me that found you" Jace shoved a hand through his golden locks and starred at Clary curiously. "What happened to you last night, Clary?"

Clary herself was still in the dark about that, her jumbled mind still trying to recall the full story of the night before. " I was attacked" she said. " on my way home I was walking and got pulled into the alley where you must have found me" Jace watched as her hands began to see hake. Her voice did not waver though. "The man- he was a big man- threatened me, said The person he worked for wanted me to stop my investigation into the penhallow case.. I- I can't remember anything else…" Her voice faded off as Jace handed her a coffee cup from the tray across his black denim clad legs. "Here" he said " you probably have a headache, chloroform is some nasty stuff". Clary regarded Jace carefully; 'How was this man , who had been so kind to her, supposedly responsible for another women's death?' it just didn't add up. Clary had dealt with killers before… Cold-hearted killers, and Jace certainly wasn't one. His mannerisms, the way he described his love for Aline, the passion that seemed to pour from his body when he spoke of her… Jace was not her father's man, Clary knew- or at least hoped she knew- that much.

"Why did you help me?" She finally asked after minutes of studying the tall golden haired handsome faced man before her. He had a sort of rugged appeal, like a lion. You could tell Jace herondale was the type of man who would look great having just rolled out of bed, or dressed up like Jack from the titanic at the end scene by the stairs with his hair gelled back.

Jace chucked "I may not seem like it Clary, but I was raised in a home where respect was everything, where you called everyone family and looked out for everyone because they would do the same for you. You promised to help me when I needed it the most, so why would I leave you helpless when you needed it the most? I'm not that kind of man, Clary". Jace stood silently and handed her the tray. "Here, you should eat something to stop the nausea and get some rest. Your stuff is over by the fireplace, I haven't gone through it don't worry" he smirked at her "I'll drive you home after". And with that he left the small redhead to eat her breakfast of eggs and soldiers in peaceful silence.

-c-c-c-c-

Soft classical music floated through Clary's misted mind. The lonely sound of a single crying violin, unaccompanied and beautiful drifted, painting the scene before her. She sat on the balcony of an elegant manor wrapped in a draping shawl of soft sky blue cotton, looking out at the setting sun across the vast landscape before her. An old village loomed to the right, fringed by a small forest of trees, the spire of a quaint church spearing the sky. A glistening canel ran through the town, reflecting the colours of the setting sun across it's waters like a mirror as little boats bobbed at its banks. The air was warm and sweet, the perfect evening weather and Clary breathed in deeply cherishing the fresh air, so different from the polluted city air she was accustomed to. To the left of the manor, off in the distance Clary could see a huge body of trees, a forest that concealed the ruins of an old stone building that had succumbed to old age and crumbled. A sunlit golden path ran through the forest and lead to a large sparkling Lake the glittered at her bright despite the setting sun which ran the sky though with oranges, reds, purples, and blues. Pulling the shawl closer around her nightgown clad body, Clary closed her eyes and relaxed back into the wrought iron pillow covered chair, succumbing to the beautiful music which called her to sleep.

It wasn't until a large gust of wind blew, scattering her hair and the last fragments of music, did she open her eyes. And found herself no longer sitting, but standing precariously on the ledge of the balcony. The sky was no longer peaceful, but cloudy and dark, grey swarming it as clouds often did before a storm.

"Celine!" A voice cried from behind Clary, familiar, distressed. She whipped around, nearly losing her balance on the ledge to face the man who had just burst though the balcony door. "Celine love, please come down. It's not safe out here" the man pleaded. As he stepped out onto the balcony, Clary was shocked to learn his identity. Jace stood before he, in all his golden glory. One hand was outstretched towards her and the other cradled a blanketed bundle to his chest. "Jace" she whispered.

A smile spread across Jace's face. "He's right here, baby. Come down from there and take him" he said gently, lifting the blanket slightly to show her. An infant rested inside the bundle of blankets, a tiny baby with beautiful wide golden eyes and a soft tuft of honey coloured curls on his head. Confusion welled up inside Clary, who was Celine and what was going on? Another large gust of wind blew, nearly knocking her backwards of the ledge. On her feet were small slippers that had barely any grip to them, meant for indoors, not the blowing storm winds that battered against the Manor House now. The baby's blanket flapped in the winds and Jace's hair whipped in front of his eyes, that were for some reason blue, not they're usual honey gold. "c'mon love, get down from there" he pleaded, reaching up to take her hand and pull her down gently. Above the balcony doors was a stone shield embellished with a crest depicting heron birds taking flight. This symbol seemed familiar to Clary although she had never seen it before in her life.

Clary felt a silent scream wrench through her body as another strong gust of wind suddenly knocked her off her feet and sent her flying like one of those herons, as if she weighed no more than a feather, as light as the wind, until a strong arm caught her, wrapping securely around her waist. The ends of her nightgown flapped as the baby's blanket had, the sound loud and noisy in her ears like the irregular beating of a drum. "It's okay love, I've got you, it's okay" Jace cradled her to him with one arm, and the baby to him in the other. Only then did she realise the noise was the sound of her frantic pulse ringing in her ears. Clary looked up at Jace's strange blue eyes and blinked back tears she didn't know had fallen. Jace's head was hunched, his curls falling onto his forehead. He looked like a tortured Angel, whispering something like a mantra so quietly that Clary could barely hear it. Over and over again.

" _Celine_ ".


	7. Chapter 7 - Seeking refuge

**A/N - This chapter is for** ** _I'm a writing dreamer_** **for their review and thanks to those of you that favourited and followed xx this chapter has a sweet little bit of clace which I hope you guys like, and if so, drop me a review, I would love to hear about what you guys think so far :)**

 _Chapter 7_

Soft breaths filled the silence of Jace's small and shabby living room as the small redhead police officer dreamt soundlessly, tucked up on the couch with Madame Dorothea's knitted throw drawn up to her chin. Not wanting to ogle, Jace's eyes flittered back to the page before him, pretending the be engrossed in the Lord of the flies as Clary began to stretch and awaken. She sat up and studied him for a moment. Jace was lounging in an old peeling wingback chair, bare feet stretched out to rest on the coffee table before him, which was cluttered with sheet music, old plates sprinkled with toast crumbs, and some folders haphazardly stacked at the end. Picking one up, Clary asked "what's this?" out from the file fluttered a small picture that fell to the ground. It was a black and white mugshot of a foreign looking man, Russian or Siberian judging from the name printed on the board he was holding up; 'DIMITRI SOLOVAK'.

"Do you recognise him?" Jace had put the book down and sat up, leaning forward to look at Clary curiously as she studied the photograph. A frown grew between the redhead's brows as she thought. "No, but I recognise that name" she mused, flicking through the rest of the file; it was just like a police manhunt report, filled with accounts of Dimitri Solovak's last sighting and places he would be likely to frequent. There was also a copy of a criminal record, printed from a classified document that only the police should have had access to… Clary herself had read the very document before at the station. "Where did you get this from? This is classified information, Jace!".

"A friend of mine, Emil Pangborn. He's been looking into all of Aline's known 'associates' for me. That's all of it there" he gestured to the leaning pile of folders at the foot of the worn wooden coffee table. Clary froze. The blond looked over at her cautiously; she had gone as white as a sheet, her eyes wide and frightened like a deer trapped in the headlights of a speeding army tank. "what is it?" He asked, confused. Maybe the effects of the chloroform had not fully worn of yet…

"who?" Her voice was a scared and raspy whisper in the silent room. Her breathing had escalated rapidly and Jace feared she would pass out. Confusion painted itself across Jace's handsome face and as he opened his mouth to ask if she was feeling okay, she whispered horsey "Did you say Emil pangborn?" Her voice broke.

'Yes… Do you know him?" He asked hesitantly. Any reaction like that was bound to not be good.

"Yes…" Her voice was bitter when she spoke, so different from her usual soft yet slightly raspy tone. As she lifted her white face from her hands, she looked so small petrified that Jace wished to hold her close and comfort her. This emotion was foreign to him, or he had not experienced anything remotely close to it in such a long time it felt alien. Her voice rang clear as she stared blankly at him with those dark emerald eyes.

"He murdered my mother".

 _-c-c-c-c-_

Jace stared at the redhead before him, dumbfound. Emil was like a second father to him there was no way he would do something like that… But- he was currently incarcerated. At the time of his arrest, Jace had been young and never told what crime Emil had committed.

"that man killed my mother over some petty jealousy he had towards my father" Clary sniffled slightly, still clearly shook "I haven't heard his name in years… Is he out? Why is he helping you?" Her voice became rapid, frightened, and her eyes wide "what did he ask from you in return?"

"Clary- hey, slow down!" She felt a hand on her arm, pushing her back down into the seat she hadn't realised she's left. Jace wanted to ask her if she was sure it had been Emil Pangborn that had killed her mother but seeing the state she was in, deemed it unwise. "start from the beginning" he said instead.

Clary lowered herself down fully onto the throw covered couch, her hands shaking as she placed them on her lap. She took a deep breath, looking directly into Jace's molten gold eyes, and began; "My father has always sought out to be the best of the best. He's competitive, manipulative, and has many allies, using his charm to make friends with the right people in order to get what he wants. He was top of his class at the police academy and was given everything without even working for it. This caused some of his colleagues to harbour resentment and jealousy towards him. When I was around ten, my father busted a big drugs case and was given a promotion which lead to a big raise in the ICPD. Emil Pangborn was part of the team my father had lead in the bust yet him nor any of the other officers in the team were given recognition for their part. To get back at my father, he apparently arranged for my mother to be killed in a failed mugging attempt. My father used his grief and pain of loss to uncover the truth and had Emil sent down for life." Jace swept one long-fingered hand through his golden curling locks before pinching the bridge of his nose, absorbing everything Clary had just said, her voice so cold and sure. His brows where furrowed and his forehead creased as he looked up, straight into her shining eyes, "I'm sorry for your lost" he said gently. Thoughts were spinning a hundred miles an hour round his head as he tried to think of Emil- the man who his father's had entrusted with his care, who had taught him almost everything he knew as an adult, had been there for Jace on countless occasions even when he had been locked up- as a jealous cold-hearted killer. His heart was fighting with his ridiculously moral head which was asking him why he found it so hard to believe a criminal he knew had killed Clary's mother… he shouldn't listen to his heart… after all, it had allowed him to fall in love with Aline and look at the mess he's in now because of that! Not only was he facing a murder charge, she's taken his heart with her six feet under, his apartment had never been this messy ever, and even his bloody cat was staging small scale rebellions! Worst of all, Jace's biggest problem was resisting the urge to lean over the coffee table and kiss the goddamn hell out of Clary Morgenstern!

She looked so beautiful with her curls loose and framing her face, her dark emerald eyes like the rarest of beauties shining. Her dainty features and smattering of freckles, everything about her, was so different from Aline yet Jace found himself totally and irrevocably attracted to her. Aline may have shattered his heart but Clary's beauty was like a beacon of light in the darkness he had been drowning In, beckoning him to seek refuge in.

Clary looked down, breaking their intense eye contact. The movement caused one of her copper curls to fall across her face but before she could move it herself, Jace's calloused hand was there, his long arm easily stretching across the table to tuck the soft curl back into place. "Thanks" Clary murmured softly, both to his earlier words and his actions now. She was confused but relished in the feel of human contact as the backs of his fingers lingered on her jaw in a feather light caress; talking about her mother always tore a little hole in Clary's heart because for some reason she had never come to terms with her mother death, even if it had been years ago. Jonathan's death still seemed like a fresh memory to her, painful and raw at the edges like a gun shot wound tearing through her. But- why was Jace touching her like this when he still seemed to grieve Aline?

Clary looked up at Jace through her long lashes as he held her chin in his soft touch. He just wanted to press his lips against hers, to seek refuges from pain in her light. He leaned forward slowly, giving Clary all the time to pull away but she seemed to lean into his touch, her eyes closing slightly as his hand traveled slowly from her chin around the back of her neck, running his long gentle fingers slightly through the soft curls there. Clary angled her head so Jace's soft, plump lips were a mere breath away from her's. Her thoughts and fears flew from her head as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers gently.

Her mouth was warm against his as both their eyes slide shut and she moved her hands to rest on his strong shoulders. Her curls felt so soft against his gingers as he tipped her head back gently to deepen they're sweet kiss. He brought his other hand up to hold her face and the feel of Jace's touch gave Clary an electrifying sensation down her spine. She opened her mouth up to him and ever-so-slightly sucked his plump bottom lip. Jace's tongue crept into her mouth and the kiss grew until Jace pulled back to catch his breath. Both their breathing was laboured as her hands slid down of his shoulders to rest on his hard chest .

 _'Holy shit'_


	8. Chapter 8 - Deceit

**A/N- it's all coming together now... I loved I'm a writing dreamer's review about Pangborn- it will make sense why I've done that now :) I know I've been updating this story and neglecting my other one but I really want to get this story off the ground review and follower wise before I go back to The queen of Hearts tattoo parlour xx reviews make me really happy so please pop one in for me and let me know what you think about the plot twist... There is much more of that to come! xx**

 _Chapter 8_

"Clary!" a familiar voice called down the corridor as the small redhead pushed through the heavy precinct door clutching a pile of folders to her chest. They were the documents on all the of the suspects in the Penhallow murder, from Jace. Jace was a subject that her brain was wholly ignoring, or at least trying to but after what had happened between them at his apartment, simply forgetting him was proving to be difficult. On the one hand, she wanted to wrap this case up as soon as possible and get back to her normal life with did not include kissing handsome blond strangers, but on the other hand, all she wanted to do was the exact opposite! Clary had no idea what had come over her when they kissed- _hell_ , she didn't even know how she felt about him, all she knew was that's Jace was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on… But his heart was definitely elsewhere. Instead of dwelling on a kiss that probably meant nothing to him, Clary turned around to face whoever had called her name.

Simon was jogging down the hallway towards her, his floppy brown hair bouncing as he went, trying to shove his gangly arms Into the jacket that was half on him as he came to face her. "Hey!" He said cheerfully "you never text me yesterday, did you get home safe?" Worry had began to creep into his brown eyes as he looked her over; she looked positively exhausted! "Eh, yeh… Sorry I've been really caught up with this case" she laughed tiredly, indicating the files she carried.

"Here let me help you" Simon took the folders from her hands and pulled the precinct door open for her. "How about we go grab lunch? Chief Isn't in so nobody will complain" he gave her a lopsided smile and the two headed towards the small Italian café two streets away.

The pair found a table with two comfy leather chairs by a window that looked out onto the grey bustling street. Simon ordered them both a coffee and a ham toasty for lunch, blushing when the barista slipped her number into his cardboard cup holder. "She's cute, you should call her" Clary observed, tipping one brown sugar sachet into her cup and giving it a stir. Simon flipped his hair out of his face, "I don't know…" He mumbled. Clary raised her eyebrows at him and took a sip of her drink. "I think I- I think I like Isabelle" he blushed as she coughed on a scorching hot sip of coffee "the black heart's Isabelle?" She asked, shocked. Simon was raised a strict Jew and Isabelle- well, Isabelle was an 'exotic' dancer, of sorts. "Yeh, I don't know what it is about her but when I drove her home last night she just seemed so different, so relatable and easy to talk to. I think the way she acts at the club isn't actually the real her, you know? It takes you being alone with her for her to let that guard down" He looked up at her " I want to find out more about the real her, the one I saw last night".

Clary understood what he meant; sometimes just because some aspect of somebody's life can be shady or morally wrong, that doesn't mean they are altogether as a person. Her mind fled to Jace; he had connections with Emil pangborn of all people and was facing a murder charge, yet he had saved her last night and looked after her... She remembered his speech about the way he was raised around family who he would do anything for, even if they weren't actually blood related in any way.

"So… How's the case going?" Simon gestured to the files stacked on the table. Clary sighed and rubbed her eyes, bringing her hands down to rest under her chin. "Everybody's alibi seems to pull through… Solovak got brought down the week before the murder in relation to some Russian drug cartel bust, he was standing on trial at the time of death... Raphael Santiago runs the Hotel Dumont and witnesses have come forward to say he was definitely there, plus I have somebody on the inside that's confirmed he's not our guy" Clary was trusting jace's information for now, as it happened to line up with her own. "I had some newbies bring Verlac in, he's clean apart from few speeding tickets and the fact he was the victim's cousin" Simon blanched at this, then shook his head as if to say 'only in Idris City, eh?'.

"Have any other leads cropped up?" He looked at her over the rim of his cup before taking a sip. Clary thought about the threat she'd received… from Camille. Clary didn't want to keep secrets from her partner- but she wasn't sure about wether or not to tell him about her attacker last night… Instead she said "well I haven't been able to find any leads of Camille Belcourt but I'm going to see if my _informer_ knows anything about her". Jace probably knew about Camille yet Clary had not mentioned her to him yet. He had already given her everything he had on their other suspects, she wanted to look into this one herself… but that name didn't appear in any of the police records at all. Belcourt was looking more and more suspicious by the day.

Simon nodded his head. "I can see if Isabelle can give us any more information? Try and figure out where she operates, if any of her men will talk…"

"Good idea, I think we should head back now" clary checked her watch. " The chief may be gone on business for the week but I have no doubt he has eyes and ears everywhere. This could be our big break in the force, I don't want to give him any reason to stick us on the back bench again" Simon nodded again grimly; chief Morgenstern may have been Clary's father but you would never have guessed it from the way they both look to different, and his complete disregard for her.

 _-c-c-c-c-_

The sun had set in the sky by the time Clary had left the precinct that night. She had decided to stay late and write up the beginning of aline's murder report, then take her father's cruiser home. Valentine had texted her this morning saying he had been called out on a business trip urgently, something about a fugitive he was chasing. Their relationship wasn't what some people would call strained- it was completely nonexistent. After Jonathan's death, her father had pinned all his hopes for her brother onto Clary, making her join the force, pushing her to graduate top of her class at the police academy… He was harsh on her just like he had been with Jonathan but he was never the kind of parent that pushed her for her own good… He did it for himself, so he could boost his reputation through her and pretend to everyone he was such a good role model. Clary had only followed his plan so she wouldn't be kicked out onto the streets! Sometimes Valentine slipped up, usually when she did the most minuscule thing wrong, telling her the was " _too much like her mother to be useful"_ and " _worthless, disappointing, disobedient, and disloyal"_ like her too. He had never been a family man and the loss they'd suffered would never change that.

Clary let out a deep sigh and pushed through the precinct doors out into the street lamp lit car park. The cruiser's blacked out windows gleamed dangerously as the car sat alone in the empty lot. Unlocking the car with the keys her father had left her with, Clary slid into the drivers seat which, due to her fathers tall build and her own 5 ft height, was around a metre too far away for Clary to reach the foot pedals. With a sigh, she began fiddling around with the leavers on the side of the chair which only seemed to elevate it. Her fingers brushed in contact with a bar on the underside of the seat so she pulled, hard. With a jolt a compartment flew out from beneath her feet, hitting her and revealing a stack of… Folders? Why was Valentine stashing folders in hidden compartments of his car?

Curiosity seemed to overtake Clary as she bent down to leaf through them, but she froze as her hand came in contact with the first one. **CAMILLE BELCOURT** was printed across the front in bright red block capitals. "What the hell?" Clary whispered to herself, flipping through the front page which consisted mostly of an extremely long list of Camille's convicted crimes; Fraud, tax evasion, arson, murder, armed robbery, unlawful marketing of weapons, drug smuggling… The list also stated that she was in fact the known boss of the Belcourt gang, centred mostly in the hotel Dumont bar. Judging from this document it seemed Santiago was merely stepping in as manager of the hotel while Camille branched out her underground drug cartel…

How was it that her name didn't even show up when Clary searched it through all the police databases yet her father had a thick document all about her hidden in the floor compartment of his car?

The next folder contained a series of printed emails between the hotel and… Valentine?! Skim reading them, the crease between Clary's brows grew. They spoke of shipments, collection dates, delivery details of cargo ranging from cocaine, to weapons, to massively expensive paintings and antiquities… What was going on here?! Was her father working with these people? With Camille? That would definitely explain why the PD had no leads on her at all… Not even a parking ticket and this women ran an underground illegal network!

Clary knew something was up- that somebody on the inside was working for them, but never in her life did she ever expect that somebody to be her father! Franticly, she scanned the rest of the document, mortified when she read of how Camille seemed to be using her father to blame other people for her offences and in return Valentine was receiving 40% of all profits as well as the recognition for 'catching' the criminals. He was setting innocent people up for crimes they hadn't committed, all the while keeping the PD from catching a whiff of the real culprit! Clary's head felt dizzy with disgust as the words began to blur together.

The folder fell to the floor with a thud as she reached to pick the next one up, her stomach heavy with dread at the name stamped across the front, a huge red X crossed through it; **EMIL PANGBORN**. She felt sick.

The document stated Pangborn trained as a cop until her graduated, worked on the force for 5 years then quit and went into 'security'- clary skipped over that part. He was apparently in league with some big mafia crime boss, his right hand man in fact, until he got sent down a decade ago… For the murder of Jocelyn Morgenstern. Clary's hands shook around the file and she felt as if the air had been knocked out of her as she read the next line; "FRAMED. J Morgenstern murdered by The Belcourt Gang under V's command due to her discovering V's dealings with the gang"

Clary shoved the door of the cruiser open and retched onto the pavement… She knew exactly who 'V' was. " _Holy shit_ " she whispered over and over to herself, hyperventilating as she realised; V was Valentine! Her father had murdered her mother! And he kept the evidence in his fucking car because he was so certain he'd never be caught for it, what with the ICPD under his thumb, least of all by his " _worthless, disappointing, disobedient, and disloya_ l" daughter! Clary pulled at her red locks, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, trying to calm herself. Who did she go to? Who could she tell? Somebody had to know about what that bastard had done- about what he was doing! Hot tears began burning her eyes. Jesus, had he murdered Jonathan too?! Was he planning on killing her off if he knew she'd found this information?! Probably yes, that's what he'd done to her mother after all! God, what was she supposed to do with all this information? Valentine had to be stopped! Clary climbed back into the car and rested her head against the worn steering wheel. There was one last file lying in the hidden compartment under her feet, a brown folder with no name stamped on the front, just blank. Clary took a deep breath trying to control herself as she lifted it up slowly and opened the front page carefully.

The last folder contained around a dozen pictures of a raven-haired girl, taken from behind building and trees as if the photographer was hidden from her sight. They showed her leaving The Hunters Moon, an apartment, The Black Heart Dance Bar, and The Hotel Dumont… The pieces clicked into place as Clary turned the page and found a dozen more pictured of the same girl, but this time she was not alone. Taken through the front window of a house Clary had been in herself- only last night- the pictures showed the girl wrapped in the embrace of a tall golden haired man that could only be Jace herondale.

The nameless raven-haired girl was Aline Penhallow.

Clary dropped the file back onto the passenger chair and kicked the compartment shut hard, wiping the hot tears off her face. She gunned the engine and swerved out of the car park, her destination the only thing clear in her muddled mind; she needed to find Jace… and fast.


	9. Chapter 9 - Distract Me

**A/N- Alright here is the next chapter. Thanks to Kitty-aka-fanqueen, Emmadayshadowhunter, and I'm a writing dreamer for their reviews on chapter 8. So things move along in this chapter between clary and Jace but please remember, everything I do is relevant to the storyline! Don't hate me if you think it's going too fast, it's for a reason. I've been carefull to not mention the L-word because right now, they're relationship is more based around being there for each other when nobody else is and comforting each other with everything going on in their lives. If your intrested in Jace's relationship with Aline, I would recommend listening to Roxanne by The Police as it was the inspo for this story, as was the Moulin Rouge version, of course :)**

 **Please drop me a review and let me know what you think xx**

 _Chapter 9_

"Jace! Jace!" Clary pounded on the peeling paint of the blond's front door frantically. A multitude of feelings were rising up inside her, threatening to choke her. "Jace!"she halted her banging as the curtain of one of the downstairs window twitched. The old landlady was peering at her through the lace with a curious gaze before her small eyes flittered to police cruiser that was pulled up haphazardly on the curb. 'He's out' the old lady, who appeared to be wearing a dark purple sparkly turban with a large peacock feather, mouthed at her before promptly dropping the lacy curtain and settling back into her arm chair situated in front of the box television playing Buffy the vampire slayer. Clary huffed. Maybe her best bet would have been to check The Hunters Moon first, before she pissed off his landlady. The shady bar was only a short walk from the house and driving around in a police cruiser in that part of town was only asking for unwanted attention, so clary sucked it up and braved the dark, despite what had happened last night. She was a cop; intimidation could not work on her otherwise there would be no point in having law enforcement. She pulled her hood up and set off.

 _-c-c-c-c-_

Jace had just finished his set for the night and had packed up his instrument, slinging the case over his back when suddenly from behind him the door swung open to reveal a small figure. "I'm sorry, this area is restricted. Can I help you? " he demanded as the person, who had their back to him, closed the door soundly and turned the lock. The figure wheeled around and pulled their hood down, revealing copper coloured hair and wide red-rimmed green eyes. "Clary! What are you doing here? What's wrong?" Clary opened her mouth to say something- anything- but the words just left her and she sunk down, slumping against the locked door. Jace rushed over to her and tried to gently pry her hands away from her face.

"Clary, hey- what's wrong?" She looked up into his swirling golden eyes and he saw she had been crying though she still looked beautiful in her own unique way. His mind fled to the previous night and how he had stupidly caved into the temptation to kiss her, without even thinking of how she would feel or how he even felt about her. Jace had come to the conclusion after that he must be attracted to clary because she is so uniquely beautiful he could never compare her to Aline- they were polar opposites- last night was just about finding comfort in each other, it had happened in the moment and that's all that mattered.

"I – I don't even- I don't even know where to begin" she said, hysterics creeping into her shaking voice.

"Start from the beginning" jace's voice was soft and reassuring as he picked her small figure up gently and in three long strides, was carefully setting her down on the worn beige couch pushed against the backstage room's wall. Breathing in deeply to calm her racing heart, Clary told Jace of all she had discovered that night. The images of aline and him together we're branded in her mind as she recalled what she had found in the three files stashed in her father's car. When she had finished, Jace- who had been sat on a wooden stool before her- leaned back slightly and let out a deep breath through his nose, tipping his head back. "So you think chief Morgenstern is not only in league with the Belcourt gang, he could also be the one responsible for _her_ death…" It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Jace lowered his gaze from the ceiling to look deep into clary's captivating emerald eyes. " we already have evidence in the files that show he's a crooked lawman- that he murdered his own wife and had it pinned on Emil- Jesus… Why are we just sitting on this information? Surely there is someone we can go to? A higher authority?" He said frustratedly.

"Jace, goddamn, don't you get it!? He is the higher authority! He has the whole of Idris city under his thumb!" Clary shouted, getting up and swinging her hand out, knocking over a stool near her with a clatter. "I'm dead if he ever finds out I know this- about this double freaking life he leads… I'm dead!" She broke down again, sinking into the sofa again with her head in her hands. "He murdered my mother" she mumbled thorough her fingers, throat clogged with emotion. "He ruined countless of innocent people's lives… God, I just feel like I can't trust anyone, that I can't come to anyone" Clary's shoulders shook as she sobbed quietly.

"you came to me" Jace said so quietly that Clary almost didn't hear it. With his long tanned hands he lifted her hands away from her face and took her chin in his own, "you can trust me" he reassured her.

"Can I? I can't even trust myself around you" she looked down, biting her lip nervously, her cheeks stained with tears. "What are we doing? Does this mean anything to you? Do I? I need to know that now before I let myself get any closer to you…" Her voice was gentle, a whisper in the deafeningly silent room. Jace let out a deep breath.

"Clary, I- I can't deny that of course you mean something to me… I'm not 100% sure what that something is but- but it's there…" His golden eyes blazed with emotion- passion, when he spoke and clary was once again trapped in his gaze. "Even when I first met you, before you opened up to me, I was captivated by you, by how different you where to everything I knew and expected… my life was bland after Aline, and you- well you changed that. I know deep in my heart I'm nowhere near healed from what happened but to me, you are like a beacon of light that came when I needed you the most, when I didn't even know I needed you. Your light is my safe place, my refuge, my comfort from everything… I can only hope that I'm yours" he brought her face closer to his, Clary unconsciously tilting her chin up in his palm so his soft lips were a breath away from her's.

"You are" her whisper was all the signal Jace needed to close that gap between them. As their lips met, Clary wrapped a hand round Jace's neck and pulled him closer, passion overtaking the both of them, clouding their minds of all troubles. The something between them was nameless, but it was definitely there as they kissed long and hard. For now they were simply taking comfort in each other, the only thing that would keep them sane during the mighty storm to come.

When the two finally broke away, jace rested his forehead against Clary's, both they're laboured breathing being the only sound in the silent room, though Jace was sure Clary could hear his heart beat for how fast it was racing.

"Your father can't know you know any of this.." Jace said gently "we need to do something though. I won't let Emil rot away in a prison cell for a crime he didn't commit after all he's done for me." Finality rang clear in his voice.

"Jace, you do understand that anything you do to take down Valentine will have to be outside the law… Other wise it would never work, he is the law. Are you willing to loose everything for this?" Clary told him, biting her lip anxiously again.

"Clary, if I don't do this, I would have lost everything. I'd be rotting away in a prison cell with Emil for a murder I didn't commit too. This is the right and honourable thing to do and I'll be damned if I'm not a man of honour. If I have to break of few laws for the greater good, then so be it, I have connections to big people in Idris city, those who would help us take down Valentine" he promised her, using his thumb to release her bottom lip from between her teeth. "Think about it Clary; are you going to be able to go home to him and pretend you don't know all his secrets? That he killed your mother? He would find out one day, and then you'll be dead, just like you said… We have to do this." Clary felt sick to her stomach with dread. Jace was right; there was no other way… nobody would be safe until they were rid of Valentine Morgenstern.

Instead of saying any of this, Clary nodded her head at him and Jace visibly relaxed. "The files are in the car still. I left it outside your apartment because I didn't want to bring attention to myself" Clary explained.

"C'mon" Jace mumbled, caressing her face before standing up and offering her his strong hand "let's go".

 _-c-c-c-c-_

The two companions didn't speak, preferring to walk silently in the cold dark night, they're arms brushing gently. They didn't utter a sound until Clary had retrieved the files from the car and was laying them out on Jace's coffee table. The pair spent at least an hour analysing all the documents, piecing together their evidence and the character profile of the mysterious Camille. Supposedly she and Aline had been in a deep relationship until Aline met Jace, then she broke it off and so Camille had somebody kill her and used Valentine to pin the whole thing on Jace out of her jealously. Clary's detective mind was aware she could be overanalysing things but she had a gut feeling she wasn't seeing the whole picture.

"Jace, don't you think this whole thing goes deeper than petty jealously? I mean the woman runs an underground criminal network… It just can't be this simple" she said in a frustrated tone, running her small pale hands through her curling hair.

"Jealousy will drive you mad" Jace spoke under his breath quietly, a look of contempt painting his face. The words were like a whisper of a memory as Clary remembered him speaking them the first time they had met, as he had sat before her with shackled wrists in a bland grey questioning room. He shook his head suddenly and glanced at the clock above the mantle. 12:30 am.

"Clary, it's late but your welcome to stay here if you want? I understand that your probably not alright at the moment with everything going on...- " Jace looked up at her with those swirling golden pools that entrapped her own gaze. "there's a spare room, in the morning we can finish this" he gestured to the scattered papers spread across the table.

"Thank you" Clary said gently as Jace stood and offered her his hand, walking her through his cluttered yet organised apartment till they reached a worn wooden door. "There is a sink in there for you to get washed up in, my room is the one opposite if you need anything, the bathroom is just down the hall" Jace explained, flicking on a lamp light switch and leaning against the door frame once Clary had turned the knob and walked into the room. The rooms furniture matched that of the rest of the house; worn, mostly wooden, yet expensive looking under the glamour of old age. vintage. The bed clothes were a fresh white, the floors were bare wood covered with multiple Pershing rugs and there was an insanely organised bookshelf lining the wall. A fat cat lay stretched out in the middle of the rug beneath the radiator, turning to stare at the intruding pair for ruining his slumber.

"Oh that's Church" Jace explained "just ignore him, he's got an attitude problem". The cat gave an indignant meow before rolling back over and dismissing them with a flick of his furry tail. "I guess I'll leave you here" Jace said as Clary turned back round to him "goodnight Clary" his voice was soft as he stood before her, lifting a hand slowly and caressing her face as he had done the night previous. She leaned forward and let their lips brush, but not fully meet, revelling in the warmth and comfort his mouth on hers provided as she said "goodnight Jace". Jace pulled away and she slowly close the door after him, pulling herself away to prepare to turn in for the night. Exhaustion was heavy in her bones as she changed, pulling of her coat and uniform leaving her in a camisole and underwear. Shutting her eyes, Clary attempted to ignore church's obnoxious snoring and let sleep take her, but that didn't last for long… After about 2 hours of tossing and turning restlessly, She lay now, staring up at ceiling as the lamp's warm golden light washed gently across the room but her mind would not shut off; she kept on being assaulted with images of the files, of valentine's face, of Jocelyn's face, or Jonathan's face… They all swam round in her mind, reminding her of the sins of her father. The onslaught of memories were to fresh in her mind and Clary felt as if she were having a panic attack. She was in unfathomable amount of danger and she had dropped Jace in the deep end with her too! They had no idea of the storm that was coming their way, the storm they had caused. All casualties and damages would be their responsibility. Her responsibility.

With a thump she banged her head against the cushioned headboard in frustration. When did everything get so bloody complicated?! Clary swore under her breath. The cat gave an annoyed yowl at all the noise she was making.

In an effort to cool her mind, she thought of Jace… Of what he had said to her earlier- about being able to trust him, to come to him. She needed him now. She needed him to distract her. She needed him to let her take comfort and shelter in the warmth and refuge he was able to provide, just like he said she did for him… God, she knew this couldn't be healthy, that she should probably be checking herself into Dr Andrews, the precinct shrink's office right now… But all she wanted was for Jace to take her pain away, to relieve her of all the sin and darkness in her life, even if it was just for one night.

Slowly, Clary pulled back the covers and crept out of the bed, soundlessly slipping from the room and coming to a stop in front of the door opposite her own.

- _c-c-c-c-_

Jace was half asleep when he heard his door twitch open and saw through blurry eyes, a small figure slip in. "Jace" he heard the person whisper gently, recognising the voice as Clary's. Why wasn't she asleep?

"Clary?" He murmured "what are you doing up?" He sat up slowly, and looked her over; she wore nothing more than a pale pink camisole and underwear. The room was dark, the only source of light being the moon, which filtered in through the gap in his curtains so the sleep rumpled Jace flicked on a lamp, letting it flood the room in a soft golden light.

Clary moved so she stood at the foot of his bed. Jace looked positively gorgeous with his sleep mused curls and bleary golden eyes, not to mention his hard toned stomach which was revealed as the covers slid down to pool at his waist. "Jace, I-I can't deal with everything- just everything that's going on. I don't know how to process any of this and I just want to forget, even if it's just for one night… Will you help me forget?" She whispered the last words, but he heard them just fine, hanging on to every last one. Was he dreaming?!

Instead of asking that like some sort of hormone fuelled 15 year old boy, Jace opened his arms and gestured for her to let him hold her. Jace knew she was in pain, and he wanted to take that away. She didn't deserve this, any of this. Clary climbed onto the bed and snuggled gratefully into his arms, letting him hold her and comfort her. The whirling thoughts that were still spinning around her head began to die down as he held her tighter and kissed the crown of her head. Without thinking of the consequence, only of the comfort, Clary turned her head and met his lips with her's.

Jace gasped in shock but quickly recovered, grabbing her hips gently with his palms and turning her body fully to face him so she was sitting across his lap. Clary used her new position to boost herself up and bring her own hands up to tangle in his sleep ruffled hair, wanting more. The fire between them began to grow as they nipped and bit at each other's bottom lips in between long and hard kisses, until it was a raging inferno, the flames dancing to the tune of passion and desire. Feelings didn't matter in that moment. Aline didn't matter, valentine and their whole situation didn't matter in that moment. It was all about taking each other's darkest most troubling thoughts and relieving them, giving each other solace in return.

Suddenly, Jace flipped them so he was crouched over Clary like a beautiful golden lion, eyes blazing. He lowered his head and began kissing along her jaw, down her neck, nipping her pulse point. Clary let out a squeak to which Jace replied with a soft chuckle before he continued, kissing behind her ear. Clary's nerves were in a frenzy as Jace's lips danced across her skin, down and down and down, lifting her camisole as he went. He trailed kisses down her stomach and flicked his tongue in her navel. Clary let out a low moan at that. She thought she would be grossed out by something like that, she never expected that sensation to feel so oddly erotic. Without even thinking, she grabbed Jace by the curls and yanked his head up roughly, slamming her mouth back onto his, the desire too much.

"Jace" she murmured against his lips over and over again between nerve-shattering kisses.

"What do you need Clary? I'll give you anything" he whispered back as she tangled her hand in his hair more, pulling him up so she could reach his neck. She placed open mouthed kisses along his jaw, across his hammering pulse point, nipping at the lobe of his ear gently before she whispered in his ear, her voice like burnt sugar driving him crazy; "you".

He jerked back to look her dead in the eyes, scanning her face for any hesitation. Her mesmerising emerald orbs held his gave with all the sureness in the world as she nodded. It was the only answer he needed to know exactly what she was asking for. He held her gaze for a moment longer before he ducked down again and kissed her deeply causing supernovas to erupt behind her eyelids.


End file.
